Fie, Fie, How Frantically I Square My

Blow, Winds, And Crack Your Cheeks! Rage! Blow! You Cataracts And Hurricanoes, Spout Till You Have Drenched Our Teeples, Drowned The Cocks! You Sulphurour And Thought-executing Fires, Vaunt-couriers To Oak-cleaving Thunderbolts, Singe My White Head! And Thou, All-shaking Thunder, Strike Flat The Thick Rotundity O' The World! Crack Nature's Molds, All Germens Spill At Once That Make Ingrateful Man!

We Are Not The First Who With Best Meaning Have Incurred The Worst

Who Can Be Patient In Extremes?

If People Knew How Much I Hated Them, They'd Love Me For Holding It In.

O, Swear Not By The Moon, The Fickle Moon, The Inconstant Moon, That Monthly Changes In Her Circle Orb, Lest That Thy Love Prove Likewise Variable